Conversations with Children

The Princess: "Mommy, we made poppies at school today with our reading buddies!"

Me: "That's great, did you have fun?"

The Princess: "Yep! Poppies are flowers, right?"

Me: "That's right."

The Princess: "Can you say the poppy poem for me again?"

Me: "In Flanders Fields, the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing fly
Scarce heard amidst the guns below

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, say sunset glow
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe
To you, from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours, to hold it high
If yea break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields."

The Princess: "I like that poem, Mommy."

Me: "I like it too."

The Princess: "My uncle wrote it, right?"

Me: "Your great-great-great uncle. Grandpa's grandma's brother. Colonel John McRae."

The Princess: "Yeah. And he was a soldier. The soldiers came to our school last year and sang O Canada with us."

Me: "Did you like that?"

The Princess: "Yes! The soldiers are really nice! Remember when we saw them in a parade?"

Me: "Yes baby. I do."

Thank you Great Great uncle John. Thank you Grandpa Macey. Thank you Grandpa Holmes. Thank you Great Uncle Joe. Thank you Great Uncle Chum. Thank you to every soldier, each man and each woman who made unbelievable sacrifices to protect our country. Because of you, my children live in a blessed time, in a blessed place, with nothing in their frame of reference to help understand what is meant by war. I haven't forgotten. I won't let them forget. Thank you.